


I Feel Overjoyed When You Listen to My Words

by Erinyoung307



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cute, Fluffy, Harry's fond of Louis, Louis' fond of Harry, M/M, not american football because that's not as cool, slight overuse of the word ode, there's just so much fondness, they're just home, this is actually just really cute i dont regret a thing, watching a football game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:10:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erinyoung307/pseuds/Erinyoung307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis are at home watching a football game and Harry really likes Louis and Louis is really fond of Harry and everything is good in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Feel Overjoyed When You Listen to My Words

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. So I wrote a thing in math today when I finished my test and I just think this is so cute I cannot even so I hope you guys enjoy this. Sorry it's short, but I have another and I might post that and make this a series thing so yeah :)

                Sometimes it just get to Harry. Louis was just so _beautiful_. It was like seeing him for the first time all over again. It’s like—he doesn’t even understand how he can looks at Louis and not _cry_ because of it, Jesus. It’s not even just one thing, it’s everything. Like, his eyes are gorgeous, his nose is cute, his hair is awesome, his thighs are delicious, and don’t even get Harry started on his ankles. He’s pretty sure he could write a sonnet about them. He’d call it “Ode to Louis’ Ankles.”

                Okay, so maybe not ode. It’s a weird word. Like, what even.

                “Lou?”

                “Hmm?” Louis replies from Harry’s chest. They’re watching a football game and Harry’s laying across the couch and Louis’ laying across Harry and he’s just so pretty, dammit, can he not.

                “Do you think ode is a weird word?”

                Louis sighed and shook his head (fondly, Harry would like to add). “What are you even _saying_?”

                Harry smiled. He liked Louis. “No, like, hear me out. I was thinking about writing an ode to your ankles and—“

                “No, stop right there. An _ode_ to my _ankles_?” Louis asked, turning to face Harry with both eyebrows raised, a (fond) smile, and amusement in his eyes. “What even goes on in that big head of yours?”

                “Heeey,” Harry pouted. “My head’s not big. It’s mostly my hair.”

                “Mhm,” Louis noted and Harry could practically smell the fond radiating off of him and does Louis not realize the extreme emotional pain he’s putting Harry through?

                (But Harry does kind of like it.)

                “But, um, I was thinking that you’re just really pretty and I really love your ankles and I love you and I’m an emotional wreck don’t look at me.”

                Louis dropped his head and laughed hysterically into the crook of Harry’s neck. “Oh my god, you sound like one of our fans, I can’t even,” Louis said in between fits of giggles (and maybe while he’s at the ode to Louis’ ankles Harry can write an ode to his laugh, too).


End file.
